


Mothers, Don't Let Your Children Grow Up To Be Tony Stark

by valtyr



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: M/M, consent issues: power differential
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-16
Updated: 2010-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valtyr/pseuds/valtyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Welcome to the 21st century, here's a ID card, sixty years of back pay and a pet genius inventor to sexually service you. Don't worry, he's had all his shots. Just don't let him near any boxes of scraps."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mothers, Don't Let Your Children Grow Up To Be Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on /coq/.

"..and these are the security codes to the gate," Fury finished, and Steve nodded again. He was almost dizzy from all the nodding he'd done in the past two days; he was sure less than half of what he'd heard had actually sunk in, but he was relying on the bulky folder he was clutching to hold the necessary information. "Now, you have my direct number in case of trouble; just make sure you take your cellphone and ID with you when you leave the apartment, and you'll be fine." Steve nodded again. "So I'll leave you and Stark to get settled in."

Steve stared at Fury. Then he stared at Stark, who was still standing in the hall where he'd planted himself when they'd entered ten minuted ago. He was staring out of the window with a frown on his face. The sound of the door dragged his attention back to Fury, and only Steve's superior reflexes allowed him to catch Fury's sleeve before he was gone.

"What - what do you mean, Stark?"

"Stark. You were briefed on him this morning. Iron Man."

"Yes - " Steve hesitated. "Yes, I remember, but why's he staying? You - I - what?" He'd assumed the man was a secretary or attache, trailing Fury about in silence.

"You were briefed on that yesterday," said Fury, starting to sound irritable. "After Superhuman Registration was passed, superhumans in violation of the law, but not deemed a major danger, started to be placed in the custody of registered superhumans. He's yours. Don't let him get into trouble. It's all in the file." He tugged firmly at his sleeve, and when it came free, vanished down the corridor before Steve could protest. Steve gazed after him, mouth still attempting to shape an objection until he heard a rustle behind him. He turned, and his mouth dropped open even wider.

"What - " Stark added his socks to the pile of clothes on the floor and turned wide eyes on him. "Why are you naked?"

"I'm not supposed to have clothes if I'm free roaming," explained Stark cheerfully. "And you don't have a cell, so - "

"Why aren't you..." Steve trailed off, and tried to work out if installing a cell was the sensible option. Stark was really quite nice to look at with no clothes on, all long limbs and softly golden skin. And there was some kind of blue light set into his chest - some kind of superpower, maybe?

"Because Fury has no sense of humour, and I get bored easily." He shrugged. "The Sentry was really, really boring, and he used to leave me alone in an almost empty room with no doors for *hours*. So I built a booby trap out of my clothes and a set of windchimes. Unfortunately he panicked a bit and caused a little bit of damage to some skyscrapers. So now, no clothes. Or windchimes, I guess."

"What - your chest. What -" Tony tapped a finger on the blue disc of light set into his chest.

"Pacemaker. It's not really, but close enough."

"What am I supposed to do with you?" Steve said feebly.

"Oh, you know. Try to instill morals. Make sure I don't do anything bad. Fury was delighted when he heard you'd reappeared; I swear, the second or third thing he said was 'he can take Stark off my hands'."

"Fury's not superhuman."

"He's kind of run out of superhumans to take me on. I liked living with Reed, but I had a fight with - never mind, you look so confused." Stark patted him on the arm. "Want some coffee?"

Stark complained about the coffee, and promised that tomorrow he'd fix the coffee machine. It tasted fine to Steve, though. Stark took the folder away from him and flicked through it, humming to himself, while Steve watched him across the kitchen table, which was bolted to the floor. Most of the apartment furniture appeared to be fixed in place, which gave it a very clinical feel.

"This is all rubbish," Stark said finally. "Do you have a computer? No? We'll get you one tomorrow, and then we can order you some decent books instead of this regurgitated politically correct crap. You can tell it's an official Government report, all right."

"All right," said Steve, and Stark smiled at him. "What are you going to do?"

"Whatever you do," said Stark, and shrugged. "I'm under twenty-four hour supervision, I'm not allowed out of your sight. I even have to pee with the door open, so please let me know about guests in advance, unless they want to see - "

"Why do you have to be naked if you can't be out of my sight?"

"Fury. No sense of humour. Likes to see me suffer. Also, presumably you won't be staring at me the whole time; it's to stop me knocking together an engine of destruction while you're looking the other way."

"Where are you going to *sleep*?"

"With you," said Stark simply. Steve gawked at him. "It's all right; I don't kick or snore. Fury said it was about my one redeeming feature. Speaking of which, it is getting late, and I am quite tired, so..." Steve stared at him, and Stark sighed. "I can't go to bed unless you do."

"Oh, of course - no, really, are you sure?" Steve grabbed the folder away from him and started paging through.

"Afraid so." Stark stood up and stretched, and Steve stared down at the pages, trying not to blush.

The bed was comfortable enough, and whoever had fitted out the apartment with all the necessaries had also put the sheets on, so all he had to was strip down to shorts and - and stand by the bed, watching Stark arrange the pillows.

"Are you sure this is necessary?" Steve said finally, and Stark looked up at him.

"Get in the bed," he ordered. "Or it'll be on your head when I turn the dresser into a killer robot."

Steve got in the bed. Stark promptly curled into him, guiding Steve's arms around his waist.

"You can't actually build a robot out of the dresser, can you?" Steve said, and Stark grinned and wriggled closer.

"Not sure. If your grip loosens in the night, I'll get up and give it a go." Steve locked his hands firmly in the small of Stark's back, and he sighed. He smelled good, and he felt good. Steve'd spent the previous night in guest quarters at the base, which had been perfectly adequate but made him feel terribly alone. This was better. Strange, but better.

He was woken, some indeterminate time later, by wriggling, and it was only as his hands came loose he realised Stark was getting away. He lunged, awkwardly, and there was a clumsy scuffle in the dark before Stark went limp under him. The faint blue glow in his chest cast virtually no light; just glowed coldly.

"I thought you were kidding about the robot, Stark," he said, and the body under him shook with a laugh.

"I was actually going after the coffee machine. I couldn't sleep, and I thought a bit of work might help." He wriggled again, and Steve tightened his grip. "Or, uh, this might help, too."

"What - " Steve was cut off by Stark's thigh pressing up between his legs, and the mortified realization he was hard. Hard, and pressing into Stark's thigh - he made a choked noise as Stark wriggled again, with obvious and effective purpose, and then he let go and rolled off. Stark followed, not letting him away, snaking a hand down between them to cup and squeeze. Steve put a hand up, bit down on his fingers to block the needy sound that tried to escape, and when Stark's fingers went to the waistband of his shorts, he grabbed his wrist. "Don't," he said, and his voice wavered.

"You want my mouth?" said Stark, low, and Steve made a noise that was almost a whimper. "Come on. It's been a long time, hasn't it? Let me suck you off. You don't have to do anything. Just let me suck you." He tugged, and Steve let him go, let him drag Steve's shorts down enough that he could get a firm hold and stroke him. It was good, it was amazing, it had been months and months since anyone else had touched him, and he grabbed Stark's wrist and forced his hand tighter, faster. "Oh, that's right," said Stark, voice rough. "Come on. Anything you want. My hand, mouth, ass, whatever you want, you can have me, I love it - " He kept talking, murmuring filthy promises that made Steve blush even in the darkness, even as his hips bucked and covered their fingers with come. Stark lifted their joined hands to his mouth, licked them clean slowly and thoroughly, working Steve's fingers with his mouth and tongue and the graze of his teeth until Steve was panting.

"Please," he said, not bothering to try and sound anything but desperate. "Please, Stark, I need - " he broke off, shuddering, at the nip of sharp teeth in the pad of his thumb.

"I really think you can call me Tony," he said, and Steve nodded.

"Yes, Tony, yes, just - oh, yes." Tony's hand was back on his cock again, wet fingers moving slick and agonizingly slow. "I want - " he whined as Tony's other hand pinched at his nipple, too hard, but it made his head spin with need. "Can I fuck you? Please?" The thought of his cock moving in damp heat, that tight round ass pressed back into his hips -

"Yeah, yeah, of course - " Tony's hands left him, and he heard the sound of a drawer. "I hope - ah, I'll never say anything bad about SHIELD again." Tearing sound, and then Tony's hands on his cock again, cool slide of a condom making his breath catch. "There's no lube," said Tony, somewhat breathlessly. "So be careful. Just give me a second here - " his voice was deteriorating into gasps, and Steve realised he must be opening himself, using his fingers.

"Let me," Steve said, and slipped two fingers in and out of his mouth and reached for Tony, sliding a hand up the smooth muscular curve of his hand, and Tony twitched away.

"I'm not ready - "

"No, I mean - " he got his hand between Tony's legs, found Tony's hand, fumbled and pushed a finger in alongside his. Tony was silent except for the harsh sound of his breathing as Steve forced another finger in, stretching him wider, shoving deeper. He was tight, wonderfully tight, and Steve was almost groaning with need at the thought of his cock shoving in, opening Tony wide - even this wouldn't be enough, Steve's cock would stretch him - he didn't want to hurt Tony - "It's not - it'll hurt," he warned, and Tony let out a grunt. "I'm big, it'll - I can't, it'll hurt. I'm sorry."

"Yeah," said Tony, and he sounded pained now, tension in his voice. "You're big. You're going to stretch me, I'm going to hurt tomorrow. Going to be sore from your cock ramming into me - you're going to fuck me hard, aren't you? You need it. I know you do. You're going to hold me down and fuck me while I scream and beg - "

"*Stop*," said Steve. "You're going to make me, I need, in, now." He pulled his fingers out, grabbed Tony's hips. "No," he panted when Tony moved to straddle him. "On your back, I need - " He needed to be on top, to fuck him hard, and Tony co-operated, spreading his legs wide and letting Steve in, putting his hands on Steve and guiding him into place.

"Oh God, go slow," he said urgently as Steve pushed in. "Ahhh, that - God. Slow."

"Just a little more," lied Steve, rocking insistently, forcing his way deeper as Tony whimpered. "You're so good, just let me - just a little bit. Almost there." Tony's nails scraped and dug in, but Steve could barely feel it, focused on the feel of being inside, hot and not slick enough, the dragging grip almost painful.

Tony let out a ragged broken sigh when he stopped, deep in as he could go. "That's, you're - oh God."

"You're all right?" Steve's hips were still rocking, very slightly. It was all he could do to keep it at that, stop them from thrusting. Not long now. He could already feel the tense muscles softening around him, and soon Tony would be all soft and welcoming and he could - his hips twitched harder, and Tony whined.

"Just a minute," he promised. "Just give me a minute, and you can take me, you can be rough, I don't mind, I like it, just - "

"Stop *talking*, then," Steve said helplessly, and Tony actually laughed, a rough chuckle. "If you don't stop talking I won't last a second."

"Oh no. I deserve more than that, after taking this monster practically dry. I'm going to enjoy this. You're going to make me come, aren't you? You seem the polite type. You going to jack me off, or make me come just from fucking?"

"Tony," he said, half laughing, and when he rolled his hips this time, Tony moaned and he was all soft yielding inside. "You get off on talking, don't you?"

"Fuck yes. Give it to me. Come on. Oh, God, yes, just like that, nice and slow and steady, keep this up a few minutes and I'll beg you for it. Yes, yes - " he sounded near delirious now, little moans punctuating his monologue, and Steve settled into a rhythm, good but not too good, he could keep this up for hours. Could keep Tony like this for hours, until his throat ran dry and he could only manage little gasps, until his thighs shook with exhaustion and his cock ached for relief.

" - harder, please, that's so good. That's so good. I need more, Steve, please." Tony kicked him in the thigh, as if he were urging a horse on, and Steve gave a little snort of laughter and gave him what he wanted, heard his voice dissolve into moans. Another day, he'd fuck Tony to exhaustion another day, Tony was staying - he hesitated, stilling, and Tony made an indignant noise.

"What? Don't stop!"

"Tony. You are going to let me do this again, right? This isn't a one-off?"

"Normal people save that for pillow talk," Tony snapped, and his body quivered inside, smooth clench of muscle dragging a groan out of Steve. "Yes, of course, it's not like I'm allowed in anyone else's bed - well, not unless you're watching, which I am actually willing to consider if - ah yes, that's it - " he sighed with pleasure as Steve started thrusting again, faster, harder. "Harder," he begged, and Steve dipped his head, got a mouthful of hair before pressing a kiss to Tony's cheek.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said. "Next time, when we've got lube, I'll fuck you harder, I promise, I'll fuck you hard, until you scream, for hours, until you can't walk."

"Please," said Tony, and his voice seemed disconnected and distant. "Oh, please. Oh. Oh, I - " His hips ground down, back arching, and then he let out a tiny sigh, barely audible, and Steve felt hot stripes over his belly and Tony slackened around him.

"I thought you'd be louder," said Steve, and Tony made a noise somewhere between a purr and a groan. "I'll just - " Tony made little sounds of dazed pleasure as Steve thrust into him, not too fast, because if he was careful he could fuck Tony again tomorrow, maybe a couple of times, Tony could ride him, they could have the lights on so Steve could watch him - he came picturing Tony astride him, stroking himself, and moaned when Tony helpfully clenched around him, squeezing everything out of him.

"Yeah," said Tony, rather randomly, and gently pushed Steve off him. Steve tied off the condom, and aimed it towards where he remembered the bin being; the faint rustle reassured him both memory and aim were working fine.

"You all right?" he asked, pulling Tony into his arms, and Tony shoved him onto his back and draped himself over Steve, nuzzling into his neck.

"Going to be sore," he predicted, sounding far too happy about it. "You know, I can tell we're going to be great friends."

"Really," said Steve, and felt Tony nod enthusiastically.

"Sure. Trust me; I'm a futurist."


End file.
